


Kek

by smallburrito



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Crack, Gen, Space Wives, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-25
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2018-08-10 22:03:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7862836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smallburrito/pseuds/smallburrito
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Make The Galaxy Great Again.</p><p>or</p><p>Donald J. Trump acquires a TARDIS and it's up to a pair of space bisexuals™ to fix the havoc he wreaks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. the beginning

A long time ago in a galaxy far far away… 

A 1950s American diner suddenly materialised on the desolate desert planet of Jakku, looking noticeably out of place. Like, _really_ out of place.

“Ah, the sweet smell of adventure,” sighed a British voice as a rather short woman with straightish dark hair poked her head out of its front door and took a deep breath of the planet’s dry, gritty air. 

“All I can smell is this sand that’s already got up my bloody nose,” complained an equally British voice as another vertically challenged dark-haired lady emerged from the diner. This one had her comparatively wavy hair put up in a messy bun. “Really, Clara, you couldn’t have picked somewhere a bit more… developed, could you?”

“But ‘developed’ is the opposite of ‘adventure’!” Clara protested. “Surely you of all people should know that by now, Me!”

“Meh,” said Me disgruntledly. “But you’re going along to wherever I choose next.”

“Sure, sure.” said Clara, waving her hand in front of her face as both a gesture of dismissal and an attempt to clear her vision of the aforementioned sand. Me flipped the sign inside the diner to say “CLOSED”, and the two travellers walked off towards the village, which was about a half-mile away. 

The trek took about fifteen minutes; and when they arrived at the settlement, they were the centre of attention. All the inhabitants were oohing and aahing over the fancy clothes they were wearing - apparently black leather jackets were unheard of in this somewhat primitive solar system. Everyone else appeared to be wearing robes of some sort. The big fat guy who ran the place would probably have offered a ridiculous sum for Clara and Me’s outfits - however he had run off somewhere.

Unbeknownst to the travellers, he had seen their diner/TARDIS arrive and, despite having no knowledge of Time Lords (or time travel for that matter) had immediately pegged the restaurant as a ship both extremely powerful and extremely valuable. Still recovering from the theft of the Millennium Falcon, the stingy alien had decided he would steal it. Whilst Me and Clara were talking to the villagers and taking in the rich culture around them, this creature (whose name remains irritatingly unknown) was tramping across the desert in the opposite direction with a crowbar in his hand and thievery on his mind.

The crowbar didn’t prove necessary, because it turned out the door was not locked. It had been presumed that the “CLOSED” sign would be enough to deter any unwanted visitors - and on the more civilised planets, it generally was. Jakku, however, was most certainly not one of those. Understandably so, as the planet was basically one big sad-looking junkyard. The big fat burglar barged through the open door and locked it behind him so that the legitimate inhabitants would not get back in. He then climbed over the counter to search for the main control room. He did not find it; instead stumbling upon a kitchen. 

“This is not the control room,” he declared to nobody in particular as there was nobody else around. “This is a kitchen.”Then, being fat, he proceeded to ransack the cupboards and came up with a satisfying assortment of foods including a big bucket of fries, three cans of spam, and fifty-seven bottles of gourmet ketchup. This, he thought, is my lucky day!

The intruder gobbled up a spam can and licked his lips before making his way toward the doorway at the kitchen’s opposite end. As he peered through the circular windows of the doors, the large alien grinned and gave a grunt of delight. This was the control room; he had found what he was looking for.

He took a quick look around to be sure there were no other life forms on the ship, then set about trying to get the thing off the ground. There was a big red button in front of him, so he gave it a hearty push. The entire room began to shudder as a peculiar whining-whirring noise rose up around him. The idiot had left the brakes on. But then again, so did everybody who flew the damn ship.


	2. the next part

Our rather rounded burglar, inexperienced as he was, presumed the ship would simply take off into space rather than enter the time vortex. He was wrong, yet the fact that the ship comprised zero windows meant that he remained ignorant and had absolutely no clue where he was going. You’d think that anybody of sound mind would be somewhat skeptical of a ship that lacked windows, but this character was far from the sharpest lightsaber on the lightsaber-tree.

It should also be noted that the fifty-seven bottles of ketchup he had recently consumed were not normal ketchup, but instead was Alderaanian gourmet ketchup - a recipe made from 11 secret herbs and spices, one of which was rumoured to be cannabis - so he could possibly have been intoxicated as well. It was, in his case, a rather convenient fact that there was no random drug testing on any planet other than Earth.

After but a few minutes of high-flying (in more ways than one), the diner-TARDIS came to a crashing halt.

“Oh, bother,” said the pilot, wondering if the restaurant had comprehensive ship insurance. If not, he was destined to be even more royally screwed than he would be for thievery alone.

The control room was beginning to fill with a thick grey smoke, and consequently, the being responsible for the crash decided that it would be best if he abandoned ship. He grabbed what remained of his precious spam, then with a disgruntled grunt shoved the exterior doors open and took in the view outside. It was, he decided, horribly boring. The diner couldn’t have picked somewhere a little more… aesthetic to land, could it?

The scene outside was desert, but a different sort of desert to Jakku. It was less dune and wind, more rock and cactus. There was a chain-link fence in the near distance, with a sign attached. He squinted in an attempt to read it.

“AREA 51” the sign said. “PROPERTY OF US GOVERNMENT. DO NOT ENTER. TRESPASSERS WILL BE SHOT.”

This sign, however, meant absolutely nothing to the intruder - as he could not read. For all he knew it could have been an advertisement for free doughnuts, an extract from a steamy romance novel, or the first three-hundred digits of Pi. As a result of this ignorance, he put his monstrous, inhuman strength to questionable use and tore open the fence before squeezing through the hole and continuing on his merry way.


End file.
